


Full Homo, Bro

by Scribbles_Galore



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: First Time, I tagged underage but they aren't like kids or anything I promise, M/M, Really Stupid Morons, straight up smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:33:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5401418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribbles_Galore/pseuds/Scribbles_Galore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh Washington is the most maddening boy alive, and Chris is not smooth.</p>
<p>Also that is the shittiest title I'm so sorry........</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Homo, Bro

**Author's Note:**

> So this is some of the first smut I wrote, a few months ago.....??? I can't believe I'm posting it but I mean hEY WHY NOT RIGHT  
> This is set a year or so before the prologue of the game, before their senior year of highschool.

It’s nearly midnight, and they can’t stop kissing each other. It’s not the booze, or the room, or...any reason at all, honestly. This was just something they did. Had for the past few years. When they were drunk, or bored, or lonely, they’d make out. No big deal, if you ever asked Josh about it.

“We’re just two bros taking care of each other,” he’d say in that lazy way of his, kiss-swollen lips pulled in a smirk. “We don’t have to make a deal out of it. You like the ladies, so do I. No biggie, bro.” It drove Chris nuts. The casualty of it all. Trying to know boundaries, if there were any rules to it. He’d seen Josh with girls at parties, draped over his lap, arms twisted around his neck, gasping into every kiss like he was their only source of oxygen.

He wasn’t jealous, exactly. More...confused. Josh would go into a bedroom, or a closet, or a bathroom with this girl, come out maybe twenty minutes later looking satisfied and cocky. But never more than an hour later, he was asking Chris to leave. They’d pull over on the side of the road and make out in the backseat of the car, leaving tiny hickeys low enough to be covered by tshirts at school on Monday. And they never talked about it.

This night wasn’t any different. Chris had joined the Washingtons on a family trip to their favorite ski resort. Sam was there, too, sharing a room with Hannah and Beth. They had a whole week here, a whole week to hang out and spend time with friends before school started. Today had been mostly unpacking from the long drive, exploring the lodge and surrounding town. Once evening had fallen, Josh’s parents had left to have dinner with some studio exec friends, leaving the teens to their own devices. They’d snuck some wine, played card games in the main room, but eventually they’d all drifted to their rooms to relax and sleep before their big ski session the following day.

The door hadn’t even closed behind them before Josh was ripping at Chris like a man possessed. His tongue tasted like wine and Chris could hardly gasp in a breath before groaning and molding his mouth to Josh’s, awkwardly tugging his parka off his arms. Josh guided them to one of the queen-sized beds, his cold hands laying Chris down as carefully as a horny teenager could. They tangled on the bed for a minute, Josh over Chris, supporting himself on his elbows, their bodies pressed together. The kisses are deep, slightly rushed. Like he’s been waiting for this for hours.

“Your lips are so fuckin’ chapped, bro,” Josh grumbles as he pulls away for a breath, and Chris can’t help but snicker.

“Seriously, dude? That’s your hot line? ‘Chapped lips, dude, let’s make out’?”

“I don’t need lines for you, Cochise.” There’s something weird in Josh’s eyes, something warm and dangerous. It makes Chris’ throat tighten. “You’re willing without ‘em.” He presses their mouths together again, and it’s harder, faster. More teeth and tongue. Josh bites Chris’s lower lip, hard, and the blonde can’t help but groan. It hurts, but...in a good way. In a fun way.

“You’re so annoying,” Chris grumbles, reaching up to knot his fingers in Josh’s hair, hold him close so he can soak in as much of this as he can before they stop and go to bed. Seperately. Because that’s what they always do. He wants to be frustrated, but he feels Josh’s laughter against his lips, and it fades.

They stay like this for a time, kissing and biting and humming their approval. He feels a shift, Josh putting all his weight on one arm, leaving his other free to run his hand along Chris’s side. Chris can feel it burning through his sweater like flame. It runs over his ribs, to his hip, pauses on a sliver of exposed skin, then works its way back up. He does this again, and again, every time lingering longer and longer on the bare skin, rubbing circles into it with his thumb. He eventually seems to muster up the courage to slide it under the sweater, grips onto Chris’ ribs, starts to ease the kiss deeper. Chris starts, pulling his lips away and barking out a shocked, “Josh.”

Josh’s hand leaves him, quickly. It’s always been one of the unspoken rules about doing this. Clothes stay on, hands stay over clothes. Don’t talk about it, don’t tell people, don’t be upset if someone (Josh) hooks up with other people. Rules. Rules are the only thing that has made this something okay for Chris to handle. It’s not that he always follows rules (God knows, with how much trouble he and Josh get into), but having rules makes it feel...okay. Like it’s more than drunken stupidity, less than a hook up. It gives it substance, even if it’s not enough to really grab. It makes it real.

“Sorry, bro,” Josh says. He’s sat up now, giving Chris space. “Won’t do it again. I didn’t mean t--well, I did, I just...listen, that’s my bad.” Josh has never stuttered like this before. Not when they...do this. He’s always so confident. Like he knows what he wants, and what Chris wants. He’s never seemed anything less than cocky.

“Nah, dude, it’s fine, I just...I’m ticklish.” It’s a shitty excuse, but it’s not a complete lie: Chris reacts to being tickled just like a kid does. Ashley and Sam take advantage of it as often as they can, and Josh always makes fun of him. So, using it as a cop-out brings a grin to Josh’s face, and then he snickers. And his laugh is always infectious, so Chris laughs too, which turns into a snort, and then they both lose it. They giggle like morons, egged on by one another. They are, after all, best friends.

The laughs crescendo and die down. Josh rubs his hands over his face, one hand half-covering the grin on his lips, shakes his head. “We should...go to sleep. We gotta get up pretty early, man.” He moves to stand, and Chris grabs his shoulder.

“Wait, dude.” They look at each other for a minute, and Chris can feel blood rushing to his cheeks. “We don’t...I mean, we don’t have to. It’s...I can take off my shirt. It’s not a big deal.” Wow, does he really sound that stupid? Does he sound like that all the time, or only when he’s trying to hook up with people? Jesus. His hand flies up, rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, we’re at that point that it’s cool, right?”

“The thing is, dude,” Josh’s voice wavers for a second, like he’s trying to keep it steady under duress, “that I want all of it off.” A breath catches in Chris’ throat. This is...weird. Not bad weird, just...weird. In most situations, that is the kinda line that the two of them would make fun of Sam and the twins for melting over in some movie. That’s something that Josh should be mumbling in a drunk girl’s ear at a party, not sober, in the dark, on a bed, to his best friend.

But, goddamn if it doesn’t make Chris horny.

“Uh.” Articulate, dude. “A-alright. Sure.” Trembling hands grab the bottom of his sweater, pull it up and over his head, almost ripping his t-shirt off with it. His glasses skew on his face, and he crumples the sweater into a ball, drops it on the floor before going to fix them.

“Woah, wait, really?” Josh sounds more surprised than Chris, rubbing his hands on his jeans like he’s trying to get sweat off of them. Chris does that, when he’s nervous. And now Josh is. Nervous, that is.

“Yeah, man.” Chris starts to lift his shirt. The second it’s over his face, he feels Josh shift, feels something warm and wet against his chest. A yelp escapes his mouth. He rips the shirt off, goes to say something, to ask Josh what the hell that was supposed to be. But Josh claps his hand over Chris’ mouth, and the wild-eyed boy is snickering quietly.

“Dude, shut up! You’re gonna make my sisters investigate, and nobody needs that to happen tonight.” Josh’s cheeks are flushed. His hand smells like soap and firewood, and Chris just wants to be sexy. He tries to be sexy. Licks Josh’s palm. That’s sexy, right? Isn’t it?

It just might be, gauging by the way Josh chokes on a breath, the way his tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip. If not sexy, somehow stimulating. His brows scrunch together for a second, his face changing to something between angry and hungry. “I’m gonna move my hand,” he says after a second, and his voice is...huskier. There’s no other word to describe it. It sounds like he’s been smoking, like he just gargled glass and whiskey, and Chris can feel blood rushing to his junk and fuck is this really gonna happen? “I’m gonna move my hand, and you’re gonna unbuckle your jeans, okay?” Josh is staring at him, waiting for some sort of answer, so Chris nods.

Josh’s hand leaves him, and Chris misses it for a moment. But he doesn’t have time to think about that, not now. Jeans. Off. Gotta do that. He raises himself up onto his knees, pops the button on his jeans, slides the zipper down. Hooks his thumbs in the band, ready to tug them off. And he suddenly becomes aware that he is about to get naked for his best friend. His best friend, who is currently fully clothed. Chris frowns. “Now wait just a minute,” he grumbles, and looks up to see Josh staring at the tiny inch of exposed skin beneath his jeans. His eyes shoot up, and he practically pouts.

“What’s the hold up, Cochise? Finish what you started!” Josh licks his lips, fixing his bro with a frown. Chris almost forgets why he stopped, staring at the way Josh’s eyes flash in the darkness. Damn, his best friend really was hot. He could fully understand why he seemed to pull so much tail.

“Well,” Chris stumbles over his words, flinching when his voice cracks, “I just...don’t get why you’re still clothed. Is all. I guess.” Jesus, he needs to work on his bedroom voice. “I mean, I’m about to pull my happy ass out of these jeans, and you look like you’re about to go on a walk.” Josh smirks--shit, Chris is officially done for, that grin and those eyes directed at him of all people--and rest his chin on his fist.

“Aw, dude, I’m sorry. I haven’t even given you a peep show. That’s my bad.” His chuckle makes Chris’ skin crawl in the best way possible. Josh pulls off his flannel, casual, easy. This isn’t new to him, Chris finds himself thinking. He knows he’s hot. He’s gotta. Before he can think on that any more, bitterly or not, Josh grabs the collar of his t-shirt and drags it off overhead.

Caramel. That’s the only way to describe it. Smooth, warm, caramel skin. He’s not exactly built, but he certainly isn’t scrawny. He’s...Josh. Just being Josh is enough to make Chris practically salivate. It’s not like he’s never seen Josh shirtless before, just...never in this context. A ‘don’t worry about it bro, we’re just gonna touch each other’s dicks’ context.

“There ya go, dude. We’re even. Any other requests?” Chris lets out an unintelligible sound, like a garbled hiccup, and flushes darkly.

“Fuck me,” he mumbles. He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, it just sorta...happens?

“I mean, if you’re cool with that, I will.”

Well then. There it is. Request sent. Chris imagines it popping up in his email inbox, casual as can be. ‘Josh Washington wants to Fuck You in Your Ass! Accept Fuck Request?’ Should he accept it? Is that gonna be okay? Will they still be bros, or will they have to turn into, like...bros-with-benefits? Are they that already? What if it hurts? What if he really doesn’t like it, will he hurt Josh’s feelings? He feels like he should’ve been studying up on stuff like this. Not that he could’ve had any idea, but still...he wonders if taking a minute and asking to Google ‘how to: gay sex’ will be a total boner killer.

“Chris? Yo, Cochise, bro, you got reeeal quiet, real fast.” Josh’s cocky grin fades, concern covering his sharp features instead. “Look, I don’t wanna push you, we don’t--”

“Let’s do it,” Chris hears himself say.

“Woah, wait--”

“No, for real. If...if you’re up for it, so am I. Let’s...let’s fuck, Josh.” He’s pretty damn impressed that he has enough blood to be both in his dick and in his face at the same time, considering how hard he’s blushing and still maintaining an erection. Josh’s face lights up, and he sees his cheeks darken, too.

“Y-yeah. Alright, dude, yeah. Let’s fuck.” He sounds so...relieved. Chris swallows, his throat suddenly dry, and Josh grins at him. It’s almost innocent. Like he just gave Josh a birthday present, instead of agreeing to let him fuck his ass. No homo, of course. No bromo? He doesn’t even know anymore, he’s just ready for this moment to end. To kiss Josh again, to build up the tension, to finally feel some goddamn relief.

“Alright bro, pants off.” Josh gestures to Chris’ jeans, the lazy ease returning to his grin already.

“Wait, right now? We’re gonna go for it now?” His asshole is definitely not prepared for that.

“No, dude, course not. I’m gonna warm you up and stuff first. Gotta make you beg for it, y’know?” Shit, the way he says it so casually...Chris perches up on his knees again, shoves his jeans down his thighs, then falls back on his ass to kick them clumsily off his legs. Not attractive, exactly, but whatever gets the fuckin’ job done at this point. Josh snickers. Smarmy fuck. Chris silently thanks himself for at least wearing nice boxers.

“Alright, they’re off. Your turn.”

Josh screws his face up. “Bro, take off your socks.”

“What?” Seriously? “No, dude, my feet are cold.”

“Bro. I’m not fucking you if you wear your socks.” They stare at each other for a long moment. Josh is totally willing to make true on that statement, and Chris knows it. Begrudgingly, Chris peels his thermal socks off.

“I’mma press my cold-ass feet against your back later, then.”

“Aw, when we’re cuddling, Cochise? Are you a post-coitus spooner?” If it were possible, Chris would flush darker while he grumbles an embarrassed ‘fuck off’ at his best friend.

“Don’t use that word, dude. It’s gross.” Josh laughs and edges towards him. That dangerous flame is back in his eyes. He’s practically crawling towards Chris, and dammit, he looks so fuckin’ good doing it.

“Yeah? What word do you prefer, then? Would you rather I tell you we’re gonna bang?” He’s over Chris’ legs, grinning that lazy, easy grin. “We’re gonna bump uglies?” Josh’s knees come down on either side of the blonde’s hips, and he leans in, nuzzles his face against Chris’ ear. “That we’re gonna fuck?”

Chris, God help him, actually whimpers. He knows Josh hears, and he knows it’ll be used against him, but fuck if he even cares at this point. Josh laughs, and brings their lips together. The kiss is unusually gentle, sensual, even. Josh is a good kisser, always has been. He bites Chris’ lower lip, pulls a groan out of the blonde, and sweeps his tongue along the other’s closed lips, begging entry. Chris is only too happy to consent. Their tongues slide together, warm and wet and if Chris didn’t know it was such a cliche, he’d’ve said that they danced together.

He can sense Josh’s hunger growing, feel the building urgency behind his kisses, the way one of his hands slides up to cup Chris’ jaw, fingers digging hard enough to leave bruises. Josh has never been good at control. He drinks too much, drives too fast, he says everything that comes to mind. No surprise he’s the same way in intimacy. Chris doesn’t mind. He slants his mouth open wider, moans against Josh’s mouth. Feels the way the older boy tenses, the rumble in his chest. Chris would smirk, if his mouth weren’t otherwise occupied.

Josh pulls away, just for a moment, then licks a hot stripe from Chris’ collarbone up to his ear, and bites down, hard. A choked out moan jumps from Chris’ mouth, and Josh’s hand presses over his lips. “Gotta shut up, Cochise, or someone’s gonna catch us and ruin the fun.” Chris takes a deep inhale, and nods, fast. He is...so incredibly horny, he’d listen to whatever Josh said at this point, he just wants to get off. Josh keeps his hand there for a minute or two, still nipping and kissing at Chris’ neck, stifling a few more groans as Chris gets used to the sensations. Finally, he moves his hand, and Chris gulps in cool air.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his hand inches down Chris’ body, trailing along his chest, over one nipple (who knew those could be that sensitive? Chris sure didn’t.), and ghosting along his stomach. Chris feels like he could absolutely jump out of his skin, if not for the constant jolts of pleasure-pain at his neck. Josh’s fingers are teasing along the dusting of blonde fuzz below Chris’ navel, tracing down his happy trail, then back up. The younger boy lets out a quiet whine, and Josh chuckles against his throat before sitting up and unstraddling him.

“Lose the drawers, Cochise. You’re getting the royal treatment.” Chris doesn’t bother asking what that means, just lifts his hips and pushes the boxers down. Josh helps him, tugs them off his feet, and chucks them across the room. He fixes Chris with a winning smile, then turns his attention down to the newest addition to the room. Chris looks too, suddenly self-conscious. He’s pretty average, dick-wise. Nothing to write home about. But it certainly looks quite proud of itself, jutting up from his body, pink and warm and ready for a good, old-fashioned fap. (Is it weird that Chris still calls it that? He got stuck on it. It’s a dick meme.) Josh wastes no time, wrapping a hand around the base and giving an experimental pump.

“Shit,” Chris hisses, and his hips buck up to meet Josh’s fist. His mouth falls open, just a little, and he tries to ignore Josh’s giggle.

“Simmer down, there, Cowboy. This isn’t even the best part.” The dark-haired boy scoots further down the bed, pushes Chris’ knees until they fall open, and leans down until he’s on his knees and elbows. A light bulb blinks on in Chris’ stupid, horny mind.

“Shit, dude, a-are you gonna...blow me?” It sounds so stupid, but Chris is surprised. He didn’t figure Josh for a head-giving guy.

“Bro.” Josh’s expression is serious, but there’s laughter in his eyes. “You’re gonna have my dick in your ass at some point tonight. The very least I can do is give you some hella good head, don’tcha think?” Chris doesn’t really have a response, just reaches up to pull his glasses off. Josh grasps one of Chris’ thighs, making him jolt and stare at him quizzically. “Leave ‘em on, man. Enjoy the show.” He flashes a smile, then bobs his head down to lick a line along the underside of Chris’ cock, from base to head. Chris slaps a hand over his own mouth and stifles a groan.

Josh is slow about it, teasing. He pumps his hand up and down Chris’ length, slow and methodical, tracing veins and lapping at any untouched skin. He takes just the tip in, swirls his tongue around the head a few times, then pulls off again, still working him with his hand. Chris is keening and whimpering after just a few minutes, already feeling like he’s gonna explode. Josh squeezes lightly at Chris’ base, resting his head against one of Chris’ quivering thighs and grinning up at his bro, innocent as can be. Once Chris comes down enough, Josh smears the beading precum with his thumb, then swallows down half of Chris’ cock in one go.

He’s never gotten head before. Jess offered once, drunk off her ass at one of the hundreds of parties they’d attended together, and Chris had refused, choosing instead to herd her over towards Sam and Emily. She’d whined how he was missing out, and promptly doubled over, almost barfing on the floor. Somehow, he doubted he was missing too much.

He had been fucking wrong.

Not about getting a blowjob from a drunken ex-cheerleader, of course. About blowjobs altogether. They were fucking awesome. He felt like his dick was sunk in a warm, wet cavern, and, gross as it sounded, it felt fuckin’ top. An absent thought pops into his head, that if Master Chief just got some head, he’d chill out and stop fucking things up in Halo games.

Josh bobbed his head up and down a few times, pulling a whimpered, “Shit, dude,” from Chris’ lips, then pulled off completely. Chris stared down at him, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth gaping open like some sort of stupid fish. Josh grins at him affectionately.

“You are fuckin’ gorgeous, y’know that?” Josh sounds genuinely enamored. “Sweet little virgin Chris, getting his first blowjob from a bro. A brojob.” This makes the brunette snicker, and Chris lets out a half-laugh, but it turns into a whimpering moan halfway through as Josh pumps him a little faster. “Now, what would your parents think, hm? Getting your dick sucked by the Washington boy. Scandalous, scandalous.”

“Well, considering said Washington boy isn’t actually sucking my dick at the moment?” Chris feels bold for a moment, raises his eyebrows and purses his lips. “I’d hate for them to hear lies.” Josh, apparently, does not like his mid-brojob chats to be called into question. He wets his lips, then slowly slides his lips down around Chris’ length, all the way to the hilt, never breaking eye contact. He stays there for a moment, breathing through his nose, then pulls his mouth upwards, hollowing his cheeks as he gets to the tip, then swallowing back down again. A thought flits through Chris’ mind, something about gag reflexes and Josh’s impressive lack of one, but it flies away pretty quickly.

Chris practically has stars in his eyes. His hips buck up to meet Josh as he bobs down, and Josh makes this...hum. No, this moan, around Chris’ dick, pausing midway down his shaft and fixing him with a dreamy look.

“You...want me to…? Is that okay?” Chris hates how shaky his voice sounds, but he forgets about it as soon as Josh nods ever so slightly. He lifts his hips, a slow thrust, testing the waters, and Josh squeezes his thigh tightly, closing his eyes. Chris thrusts a little harder, a little faster, and soon he’s straight up fucking Josh’s face. Which, honestly, will give him fap fodder for the next 20 years of his life. Not to mention that the older boy is moaning around his dick with every thrust, little mewling, keening moans. Chris lifts his hands and takes fistfuls of Josh’s thick, dark hair, angling his head ever so slightly to get a deeper thrust. He isn’t going to last long, and he knows it.

“Bro, shit, jesus fuck, dude, I’m gonna--fucking Christ dude, I’m go-gonna--” He can’t even finish the sentence before Josh is off his dick, tongue hanging out like an overheating dog, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. A crestfallen groan tumbles from Chris’ throat and he pushes himself up onto his elbows, brows knit together. “Dude...what the fuck?”

Josh drags a hand over his chin, wiping off saliva that had dribbled messily down his face. “No way,” he paused to heave in a big breath, and his crooked smirk spreads across his face, “are you getting yours when I haven’t gotten a damn thing.” Chris feels bad almost immediately. In the moment, he’d totally forgotten that Josh, too, had a dick that was probably throbbing pretty hard right about now. “So, what we’re gonna do, is I’m gonna prep you, and we’re gonna get the real fucking started.”

Chris lets himself fall back against the pillows, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Shit, he hadn’t even thought about that. ‘Prepping’. That had to happen before anything else, definitely. He thought on it for a moment, trying to bring himself back from the brink of orgasm. He heard a drawer slide open, Josh grumbling to himself and rustling around, and sat up with a quizzical expression. Josh, on all fours, is rooting around in the bedside table, squinting to see in the dim moonlight. 

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Chris pulls himself up to a sitting position (trying to ignore his erection which was fucking difficult at this point) and crawls over to investigate. Josh tries to shoulder him out of the way, but Chris just leans over his friend’s skinny arms and cranes his eyes to see. The drawer of the nightstand is filled with condoms, bottles of (what Chris imagines to be) lube, and a few little booklets. Chris grabs at one before Josh can wrestle it away from him, and holds it up to the light. “Bro. Is this…” It is. A tiny booklet that reads ‘Gay Sex For Morons’. Chris can’t help but snort out a laugh, and Josh snatches it out of his hands.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up now, but you’ll be grateful for this little thing when I’m makin’ you scream like a whore.” Josh’s tone is light, and he tries to hide a smirk by turning away, but Chris nudges him gently, playfully.

“Gee, Josh, you couldn’t sound more like a bad porn if you wanted to.” Josh snorts out a laugh and rolls his eyes.

“Man, shut up. You are on a one-way street to not getting fucked.” The older boy finally sits back, a bottle and foil-wrapped condom clenched confidently in his fist. “Now, listen, what’s gonna happen is this: you, my spoiled little bro, are going to work me for a while so I remember that you’re worth all this goddamn effort. Because holy shit, bro, if you don’t touch my dick pretty soon I may lose my fucking mind.”

Chris feels a ball of guilt in his stomach, though it unknots quickly when he sees Josh’s grin. He scoots towards him, trying to figure out the best way to sit so he can touch Josh and also see his face, watch for reactions. But he can’t just sit there and do nothing while he thinks, or he’ll look like a jackass. So he reaches for Josh, brings their lips together in a crashing kiss, and relishes in the surprised purr that Josh makes against his mouth.

Josh opens up easily, dropping the supplies in his hand onto the bed, and coaxes the kiss deeper, nibbles at Chris’ lip the second he gets a chance to, snickers when the blonde discovers the slightly bitter taste of his own precum lingering in the brunette’s mouth. Chris slides his hands along the planes of Josh’s chest and back, the hot skin all but burning his fingertips. He teases his fingers along the waistline of Josh’s jeans, slipping a finger beneath the band then back out again, grinning at the elder’s annoyed whines.

“Either touch my dick or sleep alone, Cochise,” Josh’s voice is heavy with lust, his fingers digging into the blonde’s hips, “those are your choices.” Chris says nothing, just kisses him hard and pops the button on Josh’s jeans, sliding his hand in to cup his...erm, arousal, through his boxer-briefs. Josh moans loudly into Chris’ mouth, and bucks his hips in response, searching for friction. Chris’s touches stay featherlight, curious, smoothing over the unbelievably warm bulge under the cloth. Josh gets fed up with this, quickly, and rips at his jeans until they come off. “Fuckin’ touch me, Chris. ‘M not askin’.”

Chris, as best as he can, obeys. He helps Josh pull off his briefs, and allows the elder to guide him over until he’s straddling his lap. He feels sorta useless, but this side of Josh is...wow. Who knew such a chill dude could get straight up Fifty Shades? Ew, well, no, not horrible like that, but...y’know. Hot. In control. He wraps a shaking hand around Josh's dick, and the brunette just moans. Unrestrained, unapologetic, just moans, and Chris can actually feel his cock twitch in response.

“Jesus, dude,” he tries to laugh it off, “I thought we were being sneaky about this?”

“Fuck being sneaky,” Josh spits out immediately, his head lolling back, “just fucking touch me, Christopher.” Chris is happy to comply. He strokes Josh’s dick, and relishes in the choked moans that he seems to milk from him. He finds a slow rhythm, watching in fascination as Josh pants, groans, every muscle in his jaw tensing and releasing as the pleasure crashes over him. He leans forward eventually, resting his forehead against Chris’ shoulder. “Gonna fuck you like a whore, Cochise,” he’s mumbling, and Chris wonders if he even knows what he’s saying, “tug your ass up in the air and make you beg, fuckin’ right, like a goddamn pornstar, like you’re posin’ pretty for the camera, Jesus fuck…”

Chris pumps him twice more, then stops, heart hammering against his chest. “Well, that all sounds fantastic, so we need to prep me, don’t we?” Josh lifts his head up off of Chris’ shoulder and blinks a few times, jaw clenched tight.

“Shit, I almost forgot. Good call, Cochise.” Josh’s hand holds him steady when he goes to move off the brunette’s lap. “No, no, don’t get up on my account. Stay right there.” Chris does. He stays there, knees on either side of Josh’s hips, skin pressing against skin, heat radiating off him like a fucking oven. Josh seems so calm, somehow, despite having been literally falling apart in his hands just a minute ago. He’s so put together as he pops open a bottle of lube, squeezing a fair amount out onto his first two fingers. He’s even humming, the piece of shit.

Chris wonders for a moment if he’s done this before, or if he’s just acting this calm so Chris doesn’t freak out. Either way, it’s...sweet. He hadn’t pictured him as a calm, talk-it-through type of sex guy. Not that he’s thought about fucking Josh, he catches himself, pursing his lips slightly. Just...in general. He’s an impulse guy. He once tackled Chris off a cliff without warning. He’d drive to Chris’ house at 3 am on a Wednesday and call him until he woke up and let him inside. Josh is impulse, and Chris is control. That’s how they work. But this? Very unlike him. Not in a bad way. Just different. He feels like he should tell Josh’s therapist, then decides against that. How would he even broach the topic? ‘Hey Dr. Hill, so I was getting fucked by Josh in one of our many repressed, homo-erotic escapades, and he was a very gentle and thorough lover!’ Yeah, not a chance.

Something cold and slimy taps against his asshole, and Chris nearly screams. He jolts violently, fixing his bro with a bitter stare. Josh, of course, looks back at him with a barely concealed snicker, and cocks an eyebrow. “Back from La-La Land, dude? Can we get on to the real party?”

“Yeah, yeah, jackass, just tell me what to do.”

“Well.” Josh is taking too much pleasure in this. It’s making Chris nervous. And horny. Some-fucking-how. Damn Josh and his great genetics, stupid fucking carved-from-marble, fuck-you-with-my-eyes piece of shit. “You are going to lay down, on your front, and shove your ass into the air, like a dog waiting to get mounted. Then--”

“I can do without the metaphors, thanks.” Chris interrupts. Josh, unfazed, winks at him.

“Actually, dear bro of mine, that was a simile. Anyhow,” Fuck this stupid fucking smarmy, full of himself fucking English-class-paying-attention jackass, Chris just wants to fucking cum already, “while you are in said mounting-dog position, I will slowly, and gently, prepare your asshole for my meatwand.”

“Dude.”

“Too much?”

“Yes. Way too much.” The laughter bubbles up, natural, easy, but Chris is highly aware of Josh’s finger still hovering near his asshole. Questions rush through his mind, double time. Will it hurt? What if he hates receiving, will Josh wanna switch? Is this gonna happen every time they make out now? How does this change things? How the fuck is he gonna be able to have Josh’s dick in his ass and not cum immediately? But, of course, he says none of this out loud, instead just rolls over onto the bed and sticks his ass up into the air. Strange, he thought swallowing his pride would taste more bitter.

“Well, well, aren’t you an eager little beaver, huh?” Josh gives Chris’ left asscheek a fond squeeze, and it makes the blonde jolt.

“I will literally never touch your dick again, Josh. I have no qualms with that.” Josh snickers, and Chris can feel the bed shift as he makes his way closer.

“Oh jesus, alright dude, relax. Just trying to keep everything relaxed, that’s all.” Chris snorts into the comforter.

“Dude, my asshole is so incredibly unrelaxed, that’s why we’re doing this in the first place.”

“Fair enough.” A hand comes around and cups Chris’ dick carefully, stroking it slowly. “It’s gonna feel...weird at first. Just let your body get used to it.”  
“Yeah, okay, thanks doc--OH.” He feels a prod at his entrance, and he squeezes his eyes shut, tries to relax and let it happen. Definitely not a normal feeling. He forces out two fast breaths and tugs at the comforter below him, pulling the soft cloth into his tight fists.

“Yyyyeah, like I said. Just...try and breathe, and relax for me, yeah Cochise?” His voice is soothing, timing perfectly with the patient stroking on his cock. It could almost feel good. “Breathe and relax, there ya go. Lookin’ good bro.” The tip of the first digit presses inside him, and Josh hums appreciatively. “Good, off to a good start man.” He presses in, slow, slow, thankfully smooth from the lube that Josh so liberally applied. It takes time, but he takes the whole finger, eventually. Josh is still jacking him off with a loose fist, words practically dripping with lust. “Your ass is, like, super tight, dude. No homo.”

“Joshua,” Chris knows he’s a little too loud, but he honestly couldn’t care less at the current moment, “your finger is literally inside my asshole. I think we’re a little past no homo.” This makes the older boy chuckle, and he crooks his finger, just a little, to test the waters. Chris gasps, pressing back onto the finger instinctively. It still hurts, but it felt...good, just for a second. He can feel Josh smirking behind him.

“Good boy, good boy, you’re doing so good. Just get used to this, alright? We have all night.”

It takes most of an hour, but he relaxes enough to have three fingers in him, crooking and sliding in and out ever so slightly. He feels exhausted and on edge and...proud. Honestly, once Josh had started scissoring two fingers inside him, he’d been ready to give up completely. It was strange, uncomfortable. But Josh pressed against his back, whispering encouragement and praise into his ear (plus getting slowly, teasingly jerked almost the whole time) had been enough to get him through.

Now it was time for the real deal. He was shaking, just a little bit. Josh had found what he imagined was his prostate, and had massaged it ever so gently, on and off for the last 10 minutes, making Chris very aware of exactly how good it could feel to have something in his ass. Finally, he felt ready to go full homo with his best bromo (he needed to not think like that, that’s the sort of shitpost bullshit that had made him unpopular in middle school).

“Alright dude,” Josh carefully slid his fingers out, and Chris feels like actual jelly. “Think you’re up for it?”

“Yeah, bro,” his voice is scratchy, but he turns his head so he can see Josh’s face, and offera him a weak grin, “let’s fuck, man. I am getting the worst case of blue balls from all this waiting.” Josh snickers, and reaches for the condom he’s set aside, tearing open the wrapper with his teeth and then slowly rolling it on. “No, but, dude, for real,” Chris wiggles his ass, smirking, “I’m gonna do this without you if you don’t hurry up.”

Josh grins, but blows out a breath like he’s annoyed. “The mouthiest bottom I’ve ever fuckin’ met man, and that includes me. Nothing but whine, whine, whine, bitch, bitch, bitch…” He squeezes out more lube (he’s been very liberal with it, and Chris silently thanks God) and strokes himself a few times before inching closer. “Alright. Ready?”

“Ready for your cock, keptin,” Chris braces himself, takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. He feels Josh’s hand around his hip, a slow movement. Something rests against his entrance, hot and slick, and then it’s pushing inside him and-- “Holy fucking jesus christ Christmas cake sunnovabitch!” It’s very different. Not really painful, exactly (though there’s some of that too), but different. It’s hot, for one thing. He can feel the heat inside him, like he’s burning up from the inside, out. And the stretch is different, not bony like fingers.

“How ya doin’, dude?” Josh sounds strained, like he’s holding back. He probably is. Probably just wants to hammer home, drive himself to the quickest climax he can. But he isn’t, thankfully. Chris nods, then rocks back slowly, and Josh absolutely fucking sobs. He stays still, though, doesn’t move, doesn’t push into him or pull back, just stays still. A minute passes in relative silence, before Chris thinks he can actually speak.

“‘S good,” he mumbles, and rocks back again. The sting is subsiding, giving way to a feeling of...fullness. And it feels pretty damn good. He pushes back, just a little, wiggles ever so slightly and hot damn that actually feels pretty good. He pulls forward, and Josh makes this hiss, this desperate hiss, and Chris would laugh if he had half a mind to. “Move,” he mumbles weakly, then pushes back onto his friend’s dick. “Fuckin’ move, man.”

He does. He takes control pretty damn quick, pulling himself out bit by bit and sliding back inside. Still gentle, always gentle. It feels pretty fucking good, and Chris whines at him to go faster. Josh seems only too happy to comply. He’s losing a little bit of his grip, just a touch, and it shows in his noises. Animalistic grunts and whines, and profanity falling from his mouth like rain. “Fuckin’ beautiful, that’s fuckin’ Chris, goddamn right, oh, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love this feeling of fucking you, Chris, you’re so hot and holy shit dude,” over and over and over, all while his hand strokes the blonde’s dick, in rhythm with his short thrusts.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long. They’re both overstimulated and bursting at the seams. Chris goes first, pressing back to meet Josh’s thrusts, breath hitching in his throat, and it’s not like any orgasm he’s ever had before. It tumbles over him like being knocked over by a wave at the beach, all the air leaves his lungs in one woosh, and he comes all over the bedspread, and Josh’s fingers. He whimpers and moans Josh’s name, and he’s pretty sure that’s what kicks Josh over a minute later. He makes a few erratic thrusts, gasps, and he’s gone, clinging to Chris’s hip like it’s his only anchor to earth. He curses a little, then pulls out, trying to keep his wits about him before he lets the warm sand of afterglow to bury him.

He gets off the bed at some point, Chris notices, and comes back with a towel. Wipes him off carefully, gently, and smirking down at the blonde’s starry-eyed gaze. “Well, shit, dude, don’t you look like the most satisfied motherfucker this side of the border.” Chris grumbles at him and sits up, groping around on the floor for his underwear.

They clean up, vaguely, and eventually collapse on the other bed in a mess of limbs and sweat. They’re too tired to figure out real sleeping arrangements, so Chris tucks his head against Josh’s back. Josh is almost asleep when a pair of cold feet press against his bare back. “Ah, dude, what the fuck,” he grumbles.

“I told you my feet get cold, man.”

~~

The next morning, Chris’ ass is so sore, he doesn’t even want to sit down at breakfast. Josh teases him about his limp, but doesn’t press too hard. But for some reason, Sam won’t stop smirking at them.

“Alright, Samantha, what’s up? Why do you look like the cat that caught the canary?” Josh grouses at her over a cup of coffee. She leans back in her chair, makes sure Josh’s parents aren’t within earshot, then clears her throat.

“‘Bro, your finger is literally up my ass. We’re past no homo.’” Her impression of Chris is horrible, but that’s beside the point. Both boys turn scarlet, shoulders shooting up to their ears. Sam laughs, and fixes them each with a knowing look. “Try not having your bromance be so loud next time, okay?”


End file.
